


The Cat.

by Apiaristic



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Beelzebub swaps genders halfway through coz I can't decide what gender I like to write them best as, Fluff, Mentions of smut and depictions of porn, Multi, This is the softest thing i've ever tried to write with them, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 10:14:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20241166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apiaristic/pseuds/Apiaristic
Summary: Gabriel gets Beelzebub a cat.





	The Cat.

**Author's Note:**

> This is less about the cat and more about how fucking cute this ship is.

When Gabriel brought to him a cat, Beelzebub’s first instinct was to kill the thing. It was black, with bright green eyes and a hiss that could rival Crowley’s, and Beelzebub immediately decided that they hated it, but that they’d tolerate it for Gabriel’s sake. Besides, he’d gone to all that trouble to make sure that Beelzebub wasn’t lonely when he went for heavenly meetings- The only thing he felt obliged to do was tolerate it.  
Suffice to say, the cat hated him as much as he detested it. In the small apartment that he owned because Hell was too stuffy to live in, The prince of hell stood with his toes dug into the carpet and his hands on his hips, scowling.

“Get off.” He demanded, glaring at the creature that so defiant sat on the kitchen counter, cleaning its face. “You can’t sit there.”  
The animal regarded him with cold eyes and mewled.

Beelzebub grumbled low in his throat and stamped to the television, flicking it on and staring hard at the news screen.  
“Gabriel!”  
He snapped, tapping his foot and waiting for the screen to flicker and shiver, the place of a single news anchor replaced with his weary looking lover. This was their typical means of communication, and Beelzebub knew that Gabriel would be seeing them on his own small desk-screen. probably with a sigh.

“Yes, Bee?”

“Beelzebub.”

A sigh. “What is it?”

“The animal is sitting on the counter. It won’t get off.”

“Beelzebub, you can’t call me every time you have a problem with it.”

“You gave it to me!”

“Because you were always complaining of loneliness, sunshine.”

Beelzebub looked offended, and folded his arms, pursing his lips as he stared about the small apartment. Slightly defeated, he sank into the couch cushions and rested his chin in his hands.  
“So?”

“Have you even named it yet?”

“Yes. Its name is Cat.”

“The antichrist would be proud.”

A shuffling of papers, Gabriel looked about himself.  
“Look, Honeybun, I have to go. Just- Bond. Give it a wash or something, okay? I’ll be home tonight.”  
He gave a gentle smile, rare for someone so typically sarcastic and snarky. Beelzebub could practically feel the way he tiredly signed discorporation paperwork and shuffled files simply from his posture.

Beelzebub sighed, fighting the reprimand over the nickname as he nodded slow, pursing his lips and reaching for the TV remote before Gabriel spoke again.

“I love you.”  
He grinned.

A scoff, and the TV abruptly shut off. Frowning, Beelzebub tossed the TV remote onto the couch and turned to the cat on the bench, which was now cleaning its unmentionables, making the demon grimace.

“A wash.’ He sighed. “Okay.”

\--  
It took until the evening for Beelzebub to even get close to the creature without them both sparking into an argument, and when he did finally gather it into his arms, it had the decency to start rumbling. He dropped it suddenly, hissing as it clawed to hold onto his shirt.  
“What are you, s’zzome weird sex’zz toy?” He buzzed indignantly to himself, curling his lip as the cat mewled and stared up at him from the floor. He was sure that it was glaring, and he glared right back, taking note to tell Gabriel not to buy intimate things for him ever, ever again.

When he gathered the courage to pick it up again, he shuffled his way to the laundry and pulled the bathing soap that Gabriel had bought at the same time as the cat. He set it down in the tin tub, cringing at the rattle and then paused, waiting for something as a familiar sensation settled in his chest.  
Gabriel was home. Beelzebub heard the front door open, and peeked out of the small side-room that served to hold their washing machine. The archangel was already shrugging off his coat and scarf, his taut muscles pulling his linen shirt tight over his back. Beelzebub licked his lips.

“I’m home!” Gabriel called, and Beelzebub hid back inside the laundry room, returning to the grouchy feline.

“I know.” Picking the cat up again carefully, Beelzebub lifted the lid on the washing machine and dropped feline into the metal abyss .

When Gabriel walked into the tiled room to see Beelzebub shoving a disgruntled pet into the washing machine, trying to close the lid and cursing in what he assumed was old latin, He almost laughed. 

“What's so funny? Help me, you moron!” Beelzebub snarled, one hand on the cat’s face while the creature clawed at their arm.

“That’s not how you wash a- Good Lord, here.” He grinned, stepping forward to roll his sleeves up his forearms, pushing Beelzebub aside to gather the poor creature into his arms, cooing as it flicked its tail and snarled at the demon.

The demon snarled right back.

“You can’t put a cat in the clothes machine.” Gabriel reprimanded, coaxing the cat into a satisfied, purring state in his arms as Beelzebub glared.  
“You said to give it a wash.”

“A bath, like a baby.”

“You didn’t specify.” She snapped, curling her lip up. “I don’t know how to care for anything living, I’m a demon, for satan’s sake.”

Gabriel set the animal down and opened his arms. “Do you want a hug?” He asked, stepping closer to Beelzebub. When she didn’t move, he took it as a yes and smiled wider, wrapping his arms around her and half lifting her from the floor. She was infinitely smaller than him, and he cherished it. He loved kissing her hair and stroking her idly, hugging his arms around her shoulders from behind, carrying her to their bedroom, pressing his face to her heat while her legs were up around his neck and her back pressed to the wall. While she would never admit it, Beelzebub did also enjoy the height difference. Pressing her face into Gabriel’s chest when she hugged him, his strong arms around her, secure when they kissed, fucked, loved. She loved the way he would twirl his calloused fingers around her strands of black hair, curling them around until she was buzzing contentedly. She loved shoving him to a wall and sinking to her knees, a comfortable seat from where she could tease him until he was sobbing.

She’d never admit it, but she did love him. More than anything else she’d ever known.

When they broke apart, they were kissing him, hands on his cheeks and pulling him down to meet Their lips. Beelzebub was always eager for a fuck, excited after days of sleeping in an empty bed, always pushing, pulling, ordering. Gabriel was always sure to coax them down until they were sure she could think straight before he ever put her mouth to her skin, no matter how much he was just as eager.  
Other times, when the air was hot and the rain outside was cold, when hell had taken its toll on her will and heaven had taken the last of his patience, he was glad to let her have her way, tugging his head to where she wanted his tongue, matching her fiery passion and need with an equal amount of heated want, pushing and gasping, lighting up their lounge, the hall, the bathroom, their bedroom with flashes of gasps, glimmers of moans and the afterglow of climax after climax until they both collapsed, tangled in arms, legs, and wings, and slept, even though they didn’t need it.  
They simply needed each other.

“What else happened today?” Gabriel asked, breaking the kiss to hug her close to his chest, pulling her out of the laundry carefully, stepping over mounds of clothing carefully to lead her into the kitchen, his back pressed to the kitchen bench. “Did you go out anywhere?”

“No.” She replied, glaring at the feline that padded across the floor. “I was occupied with cat.”

Amused, the archangel smiled down at her fondly, even though she wasn’t looking at him. “Oh?”

“Yeah. She wouldn’t eat anything that I gave her, though.”

He looked concerned for a moment. “What did you try to give her?”

“I didn’t know what she wanted, so I put out a bunch of stuff.”

“Like?”

“Dishwashing tablets, Fertilizer, shampoo, Machine oil-”

Gabriel laughed. A sound that made even the most beautiful songs sound like nails on a chalkboard. Beelzebub’s gaze shot up to him, and she almost smiled in response, butterflies in her belly as his face contorted with amusement.  
“Beez, its an animal. You can’t feed it machine oil.”

“I told you, I don’t know how to look after something alive.”

“Its animate, right? Animate things need food that like- humans eat.”

“So I should give it plants?”

“Cats are carnivores, they-” He cut himself off, catching Beelzebub’s uninterested gaze and sighed, leaning down to kiss her forehead gently. “Nevermind, buttercup.”

Beelzebub wiped the kiss off with an indignant pout. “Don’t call me that.”

“What? You love my nicknames, baby.”

“No I don’t.”

“You do, sweetheart.”

“No.”

“Honey.”

“Stop it.”

He hugged her closer and grinned, arms tighter around her shoulders, making her pout further. “Sweetie.”

“I’ll kick you out.”

“Nah, you love me, Angel.”

“I’m not.” She hissed, pursing her lips further as he smiled gentle, hands drifting to her cheeks.

“Maybe not to anyone else.” He whispered against her nose, lips pressed to soft skin. “But you’re my angel.”

“You’re a sap.” She scoffed, pushing away from him to cross her arms, tapping her foot. Her words didn’t match her actions, though, and Gabriel knew which ones to read. She was buzzing from her chest with a warmth with made him smile, and he could see the telltale shimmer of her wings fighting their cloaking, her pretty cheeks flushed with a redness that even she couldn’t deny. But she would. “I hate you.” She added, though there was no venom to her tone. She said it in the same way that one might say; “You’re an idiot,” To their lover after a mistake. It was fond, gentle, and Gabriel had heard it enough from her to know the way that she said it wasn’t meant to be serious. He leaned back on his forearms on the bench and stared at her with a gentleness in his eyes that made Beelzebub feel safe, wanted.

“I know.” He breathed, smiling. “I know, Bee.”


End file.
